


watch my back and i'll watch yours

by ryki



Series: please (don't) stop this beating heart [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Zombies, Angst, Anxiety, Blood, Character Death, Claustrophobia, Cussing, Drugs, F/F, F/M, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Gore, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Other, Polyamory, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicide Attempt, Violence, Weapons, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-16 00:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8079553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryki/pseuds/ryki
Summary: This rag-tag team of survivors didn't think they'd make it this far but what else do they have to lose? (Hopefully not each other.)





	

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It’s stupid_ , he thinks. That he manages to get himself in such a predicament; that this is how he’s going to die.

In a city once silenced by death and now groaning with the undead, Hunk doesn’t have time to really process the day’s events. He’s trying so hard not to vomit, having done it so many times before. And his instinct to survive, to keep what food he has left in his stomach — which isn’t much, at this point — in order to store the energy to keep pressing forward outweighs his cowardice. Hunk honestly doesn’t want to be as afraid as he is but given that the city is literally _overrun_ by zombies, he thinks he has every right to be.

 

Which is why he’s skirting around the alleys. He has some sort of coverage there, compared to the main streets, and as long as he’s quick on his feet and keeps from making too much noise, he won’t draw too much attention to himself. Which is great because he doesn’t think he can stomach another lifeless face in his, trying to tear him limb from limb and consume him for lunch.

 

(Though he takes pride in the fact that he’d be a delicious cuisine to them and any zombie who feasts on his flesh should thank the higher beings for bestowing them such a treat.)

 

He just _barely_ managed to get away from an earlier run-in with the undead.

 

* * *

 

_Hunk was on his way home after the uproar broke out at the family restaurant he worked at. He was proud of working there, having made it to being their main chef after hours of hard work and trying to prove himself. It paid well and his friends and family loved the place. He couldn’t be more happy about working there than he already was._

 

_But hearing glass shatter and people scream out in bloody murder had him sprinting from the establishment faster than his spoon could drop._

 

_If he was being honest, Hunk completely assumed that someone had come in waving guns, demanding money and killing people who didn’t comply and_ nope _! He was_ not _being paid to handle that kind of situation! He had no obligation to stay there if people were trying to hold hostages and killing everyone for whatever reason they had and—_

 

_Yeah, he can admit that it was a pretty shitty thing to do. Running away like that. But no one can blame him. He had a family to support! He had friends who loved him and needed him! He wasn’t selfish by any means but he couldn’t just stand there and let someone else’s mistake screw up his hard work! Besides, he could easily get another job if he looked hard enough, they couldn’t blame him for his Flight-or-Flight instinct…!_

 

_Or at least, that’s what he liked to tell himself._

 

_And it’s a good thing his instincts told him to run, too, in the end. Because as soon as he got a few metres away from his workplace, the entire building went up in flames._

 

_Tears welled up in his eyes, streaked down his cheeks and he felt so incredibly guilty. There was a fair chance that everyone in the building was up in flames, and if he thought about it, it was probably his fault. He left his work station without killing the stove! He was working with the flames, cooking his own recipe that made the menu… And now all his co-workers are probably dead or up in flames and—_

 

Holy shit are those _zombies_?!

 

_Hunk eyes widened as he took a few steps back as he watched people limping towards the flame, letting themselves get engulfed by the heat before crying out. But they still tried to get into the building and_ nope _!_

 

_It didn’t take more than a thought for Hunk to turn on his heel and sprint further away from the inferno._

 

_The big man kept it up until his legs got tired, threading through the maze of alleys that he knew his way through. He was careful not to draw noises towards him. Hunk might be twice the size of most other people but he was surprisingly light of his feet and was effortless in his stealth. He didn’t have to worry about attracting attention to himself since he knew how to keep out of sight and out of mind._

 

_(Too many escapades with Lance taught him how to be nimble on his feet and how to maneuver his way out of things without being seen or heard.)_

 

_Already he had a plan forming in his head on what to do next. Somewhere along the way he picked up a heavy, thick leg of a hardwood table to use as a weapon. He wasn't violent, either, but the weight in his hands comforted him. It reminded him of the heavy ax his mothers made him hold when he split firewood for them during the colder seasons. And that made him smile despite everything._

 

_His plan was simple, really; get home, survey the damage, round up his family one by one, and move together as a whole. If their house was intact they could board it up! They had more than enough supplies to last them for a long time, his mothers and uncles and aunts being smart enough to stock up in case of severe storms or emergencies. And he was glad for that, because it meant that he could just focus on keeping his family safe instead of running for his life._

 

_But things don’t always go as planned._

 

_Hunk took a turn too soon and before he knew it, an entire horde of zombies was looking at him with hungry in their eyes and flesh hanging from their bones. Hunk didn’t even have time for the bile to rise to the back of his throat before the lunged at him._

 

_He didn’t even have time to scream out in fear, like he normally would, before he was running away like his life depended on it. And really, it did. He_ had _to get out of there!_

 

_All the moments of him and Lance exploring the city, trying to get out of chores (at least, in Lance’s case) or just to fool around, came back to him vividly; he internally thanked his friend’s adventurous, but mischievous, nature; it was helping him get away from the horde, slowly thinning them out and getting them off his trail by winding through the alleys and turns. All without ending up at a dead end and meeting_ his _end._

 

* * *

 

Sighing out, Hunk easily rests the wooden leg on his shoulder; he has an urge to drag it around on the ground like a sulking child but that means drawing attention to himself with the noise it would make. He’s in no mood for another round of ‘ _Zombie-And-Human_ ’.

 

Exhaustion is slowly seeding itself in his being, his shoulders slumping and his posture curling forward, and he wants to do nothing more than settle down on a comfortable surface and sleep his worries away. But he knows it’s not that simple.

 

A piercing scream has him starling in place, swinging around towards the direction it came from. And he’s not the only one. At the mouth of the alley, he can see in his peripheral vision some of the nearby zombies halting in their mindless searching in order to seek out the sound. Loud noises mean potential prey.

 

Which has absolutely nothing to do with him. He hates how much of a coward he is but if he even tries to help someone else, he’ll just die in the process. He’s certain of it.

 

“ _Rosita! Fuck!— Damn you!!_ ”

 

Hunk curses under his own breath; a trait so unfamiliar to him.

 

He _knows_ that voice. Knows who it belongs to and there’s no way he can just walk away like it has nothing to do with him, not anymore. Now it’s personal.

 

Gathering himself, Hunk squares up his shoulders and straightens his posture as he all but runs towards the direction of the screams. Which only get louder and louder with each step he takes; which tells him and everyone — every _thing_ — else in the proximity where they’re at.

 

The scream cuts out suddenly, and Hunk has never been frightened in his life. Not even the time Lance made him ride the _Tower of Terror_ during one of their familys’ joint vacations could match to the fear that boils through his veins at that moment.

 

“ _Rosetta, no!_ ”

 

Pushing himself forward the last few steps until he breaks out of the alley, Hunk watches with wide eyes as a swarm of zombies corners his best friend against a chain-link fence in the alley opposite of his. Lance is pinned against the fence, lucky enough that there’s no zombies on the other side of the fence. At least not directly.

 

There’s another fence parallel Lance’s but there’s more than enough space between the fences for Lance to get away comfortably since there’s probably more fences blocking off the path of the other exits to the alley. Hunk can already tell that Lance was trying to get his sisters over the fence and to safety before the rattling of the fences drew too much attention.

 

And his blood runs cold as he sees the look of panic on Lance’s face, tears running down his cheeks and over the splatters of fresh blood, disrupting their shape.

 

More blood is splattered against his clothes. His normally forest green jacket stained a dark brown as blood, new and old, seeps into the material of his sleeves and chest. Lance has the white hood of his jacket drawn up over his head, patches of red seeping colour into the otherwise spotless canvas. And he’s using a, _holy shit_ , a machete as a weapon to fend off the zombies that advance on him! But even with Lance’s upper body strength, there’s too many zombies around and Hunk can see the signs of exhaustion beginning to appear; the slowing of his swings, the zombies going down with two, three, hits instead of one, less pressure backing each blow.

 

“Hey! Hey uglies,” Hunk shouts as loud as he can, his big hands cupping around his mouth to amplify the volume as he tries to get their attention. He promptly ignores Lance’s surprised “ _Hunk?!_ ” in favour of catching the attention more of the zombies. His heart is racing but he can’t stand there and let his best friend die without doing _something_. “Come and get this Hunk’a’meat! I know you want some!”

 

Hunk accentuates his outburst by reaching down to jiggle the excess fat on his stomach with his free hand, trying to make himself more appetizing than Lance’s lanky form. And it seems to be working. What, with how the zombies are looking at him like they’ll be fed for years with how much meat is on his person.

 

The zombies’ attention is on him just long enough for Lance to throw the backpacks he has with him over the fence and into the gap between fences. Then he’s scaling the fence without hesitation, not even waiting for the bags to land before he’s at the top. He barely even uses his legs before he’s up and over the fence, literally throwing himself over it. He falls onto the ground with a thump and a grunt.

 

Lance is up on his feet again before Hunk even has to chance to blink.

 

“ _Hunk_ ,” Lance exclaims loudly a safe distance from both fences, out of reach from the zombies, with his hands cupping his mouth. His voice desperate, terrified. “ _Run, Hunk_!”

 

He doesn’t need to be told twice; Hunk books it out of there, making sure to avoid the zombies that were creeping up on him from behind, finally giving the wooden leg some action as he leaves the area.

 

* * *

 

When Hunk settles down against the side of the wall, panting heavily as he tries to slow his racing heart and to fill his lungs with much needed air — calming down from his adrenaline rush — Lance is on him in an instant. Gangling limbs wrapping around his neck, straddling his thighs, as a wet face presses into the crock of his neck, hot hitching breaths hit his neck almost uncomfortably. Hunk doesn’t waste another second before his arms come up to wrap around his best friend’s shaking form, pressing the side of his face against Lance’s. No words exchanged.

 

His heart clenches in pain at the heartbreak sounding in Lance’s muffled sobs, at the devastation of — what he would find out soon — losing his entire family; watching as almost his entire family is killed in front of him. And there’s nothing Hunk can do to comfort his friend except lending him a shoulder to cry on.

 

Hunk decides then, tears slipping down his own dirty face as his warm hands trace circles in Lance's back. That he won’t let his fear stop him from protecting the ones he loves.

 

He will no longer run away in the face of threat if it means saving those important to him.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while since I posted a fanfic. So I thought I'd try my hand at a Zombie AU for Voltron to get back into the swing of things. I mean, Keith's voice actor IS the same person who plays Glenn from The Walking Dead. And the lack of Zombie AUs due to that fact is startling low, haha. 
> 
> **160928 Update** ; I didn't like how the current chapters turned out or the way I paced things. So I'm pulling those chapters and instead going to reincorporate them back into the story at later points, probably as flashbacks. Also there might be POV changes with each new chapter to give more insight into the characters' thoughts and process. (/End Update)
> 
> This is going to be slow plot-wise but I have a lot of things planned for this. I'll try to update as frequently as I can.
> 
> If you have questions, see any typos, want to discuss anything, feel free to message or comment.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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